The Loyalist: A Story of the American RevolutionBarrett, James Francis
History
The Loyalist: A Story of the American Revolution
Barrett, James Francis
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
He sought refuge in the arms of God, crying aloud to Him for His mercy.
He would give his soul up to prayer and commit his troubled spirit into
the hands of his intercessors before the throne of Heaven.
"Accept my punishments for the soul who is about to be released."
To the souls in Purgatory, then, he poured forth the bitterness of his
heart, offering in their behalf through the intercession of the Virgin
Mary, the cross which had been imposed upon him. The injustice of his
trial which he knew, or thought he knew, had been tempered by the spirit
of intolerance, was brought home to him now in full vigor by the
severity of his reprimand. He did not deserve it, no--he could not force
himself to believe that he did. Still he accepted it generously though
painfully, in behalf of the sufferings of his friends.
He besought them to pray for him, that he might the more worthily endure
his cross. He prayed for his tormentors that they might be not held
culpable for their error. He entrusted himself entirely into the hands
of his departed ones and renewed with a greater fervor his act of
consecration.
"I beseech Thee, O my God, to accept and confirm this offering for Thy
honor and the salvation of my soul. Amen."
He arose from his pew, made a genuflection before the Blessed
Sacrament, pronouncing as he did, "My Lord and My God," crossed himself
with the holy water, and left the church.
IV
In the meantime an event of rare importance had occurred in the garden
of the Shippen home. There, in the recesses of the tulips sheltered
behind the clustering hydrangeas, Peggy accepted the fervent suit of the
Military Governor and gave him her promise to become his bride. A few
days later the world was informed of the betrothal and nodded its head
in astonishment, and opening its lips, sought relief in many words.
The wheels of destiny began to turn.
PART TWO
CHAPTER I
I
It was a hot October day.
A torrid wave generated somewhere in the far west, and aided by the
prevailing trade winds had swept relentlessly across the country,
reaching the city at a most unusual time. It had not come unheralded,
however, for the sun of yesterday had gone down a blazing red,
illuminating the sky like rays from a mighty furnace, and tinging the
evening landscape with the reddish and purplish hues of an Indian
summer. And what a blanket of humidity accompanied it! Like a cloak it
settled down upon the land, making breathing laborious and driving every
living creature out of doors.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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